


The Gift of Magic

by Bakingblues



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Canon, M/M, but with magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 04:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19077166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bakingblues/pseuds/Bakingblues
Summary: “Oh,” Dele said. “Well I dunno. I wish I was magic,” He mused again.“Well you’re not.”“Well maybe I could be,” Dele retorted. “Maybe you could teach me.”“No I couldn’t,” Eric said, as they pulled into Hotspur Way.“Why not?”“Because it doesn’t work that way,” Eric replied, realising he actually had no idea whether it worked that way.





	The Gift of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Ella asked me to write a fic where Eric teaches Dele magic and I always do as I'm told.
> 
> This is a sequel to [If Love is Not Enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15356496)

_There's a little witch in all of us  
-Practical Magic, Alice Hoffman_

**September 2018**

One morning early September Dele asked Eric to retrieve his phone. 

“Oh wait, shit,” Dele said, one foot out the door. He stopped and patted his jacket pocket, “my phone.” 

Eric tried to chivvy him out, they were running late for training, which Eric blamed Dele entirely for. It was entirely Dele’s fault he’d distracted Eric by walking in on Eric showering.

“No wait,” Dele said, “I’ve left it in the bedroom. Can you get it for me?” 

Eric sighed, he hated being late. He waved his hand behind him in the vague direction of the bedroom and Dele’s phone appeared in his hand.

“Magic!” Dele said, pocketing his phone and allowing himself to be pushed down the front step as Eric slammed the door behind them.

“Move move move,” Eric said, and they bundled into the car. Eric pushed his palm at the gates at the end of the drive which opened up and they accelerated away. 

“You know, I wish I could do magic so I don’t have to hear you huff every time I ask you to do it,” Dele said, as they dawdled in the rush hour traffic.

“Yeah, well I wish you weren’t such a scatter brain,” Eric said, impatiently indicating in a futile attempt to overtake the Toyota in front of them. 

Dele pulled a face and turned on the radio. The BBC 5Live presenter uttered _“backing May’s Brexit deal”_ and Eric waved his hand forcibly at the radio turning it off with a look of disgust. Dele turned it back on again and changed to Kiss. 

“I mean, it would just be easier if I could swoosh things myself.” He said. 

“Swoosh,” Eric mimicked.

“Technical term.”

“Yep. Number one in the Dictionary of Magical Words we magic folk get gifted when we turn 16,” Eric replied.

“Really? You have a dictionary?” Dele asked excitedly. 

“No you pillock, I was joking.” 

“Oh,” Dele said. “Well I dunno. I wish I was magic,” He mused again.

“Well you’re not.” 

“Well maybe I could be,” Dele retorted. “Maybe you could teach me.”

“No I couldn’t,” Eric said, as they pulled into Hotspur Way.

“Why not?” 

“Because it doesn’t work that way,” Eric replied, realising he actually had no idea whether it worked that way. He pulled into a parking space and they were only 5 minutes late, in the end. 

~

It turned out in fact that it did work that way. 

“So you know what you said about not being able to teach me magic, how it doesn’t work that way?” Dele said a week or so later. They were in bed, Eric’s bed, together: the comfort and familiarity of Dele’s warm body next to his. “It turns out, it does work that way.” 

Eric put down his book, sighed, and turned to face Dele who had his laptop open in front of him.

“What?” he asked, already feeling the familiar sense of dread he got whenever Dele embarked on some hairbrained scheme. 

“It does work that way! You can teach me! I mean, the common experience seems to be that you can’t teach what is like, you know, natural to you. Like you can never just pass on all your magic, but there are hundreds of cases where people have been able to teach basic stuff. Like levitating something or like heating up a cup of tea that has gone cold.”

“Hang on,” Eric said, “back up. What are you talking about?”

“You teaching me magic!” Dele said excitedly. “It’s all here!”

“Where? What are you talking about? What common experiences?” 

Dele rolled his eyes impatiently and pointed to his laptop. 

“Here.”

Eric looked at him blankly.

“I googled it Diet,” Dele explained, with an air of someone talking to a small child. 

“Googled it?” Eric replied dumbly.

“Yes. I googled it. Magic. People like you. Swoosh.” Dele pretended to wave a wand. 

“Really?” Eric said

“Yeah, well it’s boring being injured innit, gotta find something to do on the long lonely days without you around to entertain me. Anyway -” 

“And you found something?” Eric asked, interrupting Dele and surprising himself with his sudden interest. 

“What, you mean you’ve never googled magic before?” Dele asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. 

Eric shook his head, he hadn’t. He’d just assumed his magic was contained to his family, some weird quirk given to his bloodline by mother nature - a kink in the natural order of things. All the books his Nanna had given to him and his siblings - that had eventually ended up with Steffi - he’d presumed were just written by his distant ancestors and would be really boring. He’d never felt any need to google magic as it had never even occurred to him there was anything to find. 

Later Eric would message his siblings in their WhatsApp group. It turned out, he really was an idiot.

> _**You ever met anyone else magic?** _
> 
> _Fran:  
>  yah. duh. _
> 
> _**Really?** _
> 
> _Edward:  
>  p sure barman at my local is. never has 2 change a barrel _
> 
> _Fran:  
>  told ya. duh. _
> 
> _**Who have you met?** _
> 
> _Fran:  
>  loads _
> 
> _Steffi:  
>  A girl at university was. She was the only one in her family though which I thought was super interesting. She liked earth magic too. We’d have geraniums in bloom on our dorm windows all year round._
> 
> _Daisy:  
>  Omg Sophie! I love her! Lets arrange a night out with her soon! Did she graduate?_
> 
> _Steffi:  
>  Of course! I’ll text her now. Yes last summer an MA in Contemporary European Philosophy. _
> 
> _Daisy:  
>  I’m so pleased for her! We can go to that bar in Kentish Town to celebrate, the one with the french wine. _
> 
> _Fran:  
>  Thanks 4 invite. Not free anyway :p_
> 
> _**Guys please** _
> 
> _Daisy:  
>  Sorry bro. But really if you’ve got to 24 and not met anyone else magic then how blind have you been. _
> 
> _Patrick:  
>  Did anyone else forget it’s Mum’s birthday next week?_

~

Dele’s google searches had uncovered a whole community of fellow magic users, predominantly meeting on a reddit-like platform called _Witches On Line._

“Look,” Dele said excitedly, “they even had a sub forum for people like me.” 

“What do you mean, people like you?” Eric asked curiously, reaching across and taking Dele’s laptop to peer at the screen.

“People who know other witches. You know, people who are shagging magic people. People who are in relationships with them or whatever.” 

Eric automatically reached over and squeezed Dele’s hand. 

“This is mad,” he said, scrolling through the message board. 

“Can’t believe you’ve never googled it before,” Dele said, reaching for the laptop. 

Eric shrugged. 

“Anyway,” Dele said, “I’ve been chatting to some people, and loads have been able to pick up some magic from their partners or friends.” 

“You’ve been chatting to them?” 

“Yeah I signed up. Look, that’s me” Dele said, pointing to a user called _DietLover20_ who had started a thread asking what the magic people they knew used their power for. Eric noticed Dele’s post contained phrases such as “really boring,” and “never makes me cake.” 

“So from what I’ve picked up, it’s best if we get someone who knows how to pass on magic to show us,” Dele said. “As that’s better than trying to learn it from books. Plus reading is boring anyway.”

“Hang on, who says I wanna teach you,” Eric grumbled, still stung at the fact Dele had told a whole community of people that he never made Dele cake. Dele never _asked_ for cake.

“Well, you’re gonna, aren’t you,” Dele responded, typing something and then closing his laptop, placing it gently on the floor next to the bed. 

Eric mused. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

Dele grinned. “Okay, so I was thinking and we should ask your Nan.”

“My Nanna?”

“Yeah, well your Mum is obviously out, and your siblings are all busy. And I figured, who better than your Nanna. You’ve been moaning for ages that you need to visit her.” 

“Okay,” Eric decided, “yeah I guess that makes sense. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Nah, no need, I’ve added her on Facebook and we’ve been messaging.” 

“You’ve added her on _Facebook?_ ” Eric replied. Everything this evening was catching him off guard. There were other magic people, Dele resented the lack of cake in their relationship, his Nanna had Facebook.

“Yeah, you really should accept her friend request by the way,” Dele said, poking Eric in the side. “Anyway, we’ve been chatting and it’s all set. She said we’re welcome to visit whenever we like.” 

And that apparently was that.

 

**October 2018**

So on grey, rainy Sunday in October they headed off early to visit Eric’s Nanna who lived by the sea. Dele drove and Eric sat in the passenger seat ignoring Dele’s attempts to start a game of eye spy. 

About two hours into the journey Dele pulled into a service station declaring loudly he needed a piss. Eric climbed out the car parked haphazardly in front of a closed down Little Chef restaurant stretched his arms above his head, and followed Dele. 

After picking up a diet coke from the McDonalds and posing for photos for a couple of star struck fans who goggled at them over their milkshakes and fries, they got back into the car. Before Dele started the ignition, he turned to Eric.

“What?” Eric asked, throwing his scarf on the backseat and opening a packet of Maltesers. 

“Nothing,” Dele said, opening his mouth and catching the malteser Eric levitated over to him. 

And then: “What’s your Nan like?” 

“She’s like, my favourite person in the world.” 

“Nah” Dele replied, “I’m your favourite person in the world.” 

“You’re alright I suppose,” Eric said, grinning. “Hey. Look, don’t be nervous.” he continued, still unused to Dele’s rare bouts of insecurity. “She’s sound. She won’t turn you into a frog.” 

Dele rolled his eyes, but seemingly satisfied turned on the car and they headed back onto the endless motorway. 

~

Eric’s Nanna lived in the third floor flat in an apartment block that was a ten minute walk from the sea with her dog, a fox terrier called Steve. Eric had offered a few times to buy her something bigger, a house or a bungalow, but his Nanna always refused. She said Steve was settled and the move would upset him. 

Eric could feel the magic humming and vibrating from his Nanna’s flat the moment they descended the second staircase, it was practically tangible and the air was thick with it. He looked over to see if Dele had noticed it too, but Dele just smiled back at him, seemingly unaware.

Eric’s Nanna welcomed and ushered them inside before enveloping them both in a hug. She was a tall woman with white blonde hair pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She smelled like earl grey tea and lily of the valley and Eric breathed in the familiar and comforting scent. His Nanna embraced her magic, was more carefree with it than Eric ever would be and her flat shone with it. Magic radiated from every surface. Despite the grey autumn sky that was visible through the large balcony window, the flat still felt bathed in sunlight and was welcoming and warm in a way Eric remembered his grandparent’s house from his childhood to be. 

“Now, now,” his Nanna smiled, taking a step back, “you must be Dele.” She rubbed Dele’s cheek affectionately, who grinned. “Of course, we’re already friends on the Facebook, and anyway I know all about you. Didn’t miss a single game over the summer,” she nodded to a television perched on a side cabinet next to a pile of newspapers, “and yes, I read the sports pages. Always cut out the articles which talk about my Eric, and the photos. You’re always there too, impossible to separate you both eh.”

She winked at Dele and smiled affectionately at Eric who rolled his eyes. 

“Nan,” he started.

“Yes, I’m sorry, please make yourself comfy, I’ll go put the kettle on.” She bustled into the kitchen and Eric flopped into the large yellow armchair in the corner of the room, Steve jumped onto his lap. Eric scratched his ears and watched Dele wander around the living room.

“This place is sick,” Dele said, looking around at the room that was filled with trinkets and knick knacks and what Eric’s mother called “a lot of old tat” but for Eric’s Nanna were souvenirs of a lifetime of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Terracotta pots lined the windows and covered all available surfaces, housing an array of houseplants that all looked in their prime of life. Dele spent a long time admiring the walls which were cluttered with framed photos of Eric’s family. He took a photo on his phone of one of Eric during a particularly awkward pre-teen phase. Eric resigned himself to the fact that would end up on Instagram in the near future. 

Eric’s Nanna re-entered the lounge, a tray with a teapot, three mugs and a plate of Cadbury’s mini rolls levitating in front of her.

“Oh no Eric, you know Steve isn’t allowed on the furniture,” she admonished and shooed Steve off Eric’s lap as the tray lowered itself onto the coffee table, somehow finding a space between the piles of books, candles and magazines. 

“Why is he called Steve?” Dele asked.

“Oh you know dear, Stevie Nicks. Steve for short and because he’s a boy.” Eric’s Nanna replied.

Eric could see Dele clearly didn’t know. 

“Your flat is amazing Mrs Burton,” Dele said, changing the subject.

“Oh gosh, please, call me Evelyn,” Eric’s Nanna replied, “and thank you. Eric, please pour the tea.” 

“And is this Mr Burton?” Dele asked, pointing to a black and white photo of Eric’s grandparents on their wedding day.

“Yes, that’s Eric’s Grandad,” Eric’s Nanna replied, “that’s my Sam.” She gazed at the photo fondly. 

“He was a bit of a dreamboat Evelyn,” Dele said, taking the mug Eric levitated to him and settling down on the sofa. Steve jumped up next to him and Eric noticed his Nanna didn’t make Dele shoo him off. 

“Well yes, he was,” Eric’s Nanna said smiling, sitting down on Dele’s other side. 

“Did he know about your magic?” Dele asked conversationally.

“Of course he did!” 

“And did he like that you were a witch?”

“We don’t say witch dear, but yes, he _loved_ my magic,” she replied with a salacious cackle. Dele’s eyes widened at her and he whipped round to face Eric, a giant scandalised grin on his face.

Eric stared back at Dele, horrified. “Oh my god, Nanna!”

“Oh psh psh,” Eric’s Nanna replied, cackling still as she took a sip tea from her mug, “you kids.” 

~

Once the finished tea tray had been sent swooshing back to the kitchen, Eric’s Nanna asked them if they should start.

“There are rules you know,” she said, turning to Dele who nodded solemnly. “You don’t use magic to hurt. And you shouldn’t use it for something you need to be real. Understand?” 

Dele nodded.

“Good! Okay. So let’s begin!” She waved her hand, clearing the coffee table and motioned at Dele to move across to the chair opposite her. 

“So all magic users have a place on their body that is most tender to magic, where the magic can be pushed out and controlled.”

Dele nodded along eagerly.

“The most common place, as it is for Eric here and for myself is the palm of the hand. Occasionally though this isn’t the case. Eric’s sister Steffi, for example uses the first two fingers on her right hand.”

Eric listened, intrigued. He’d known Steffi used her fingers to control her magic but hadn’t ever thought there was a reason for this. 

“Now,” Eric’s Nanna continued, “the act of passing on your magic to someone else is pretty easy. But it takes a lot of time and patience for that person to then master controlling it. What is instinct for us magic users has to be learnt by non magic folk.”

Dele nodded again. “I read that you have to learn to retain the magic passed on to you.”

“Yes,” Eric’s Nanna replied, “and that takes time. Once you’re able to retain the magic, then you can start to manipulate it, to use it.

“You can read all the books in the world,” she said looking at Dele. “But all the reading will tell you is that it is simply a case of practise and patience. You’ll feel the magic inside you and the stronger the bond with the magic gets then the easier you’ll find to latch onto it and get it to answer to your request.”

Eric for the first time in his life appreciated his ability to naturally use magic. It sounded boring and exhausting having to learn it. He looked over at Dele expecting him to have his usual face of indifference when told something took time, but he appeared attentive and rapt, holding onto every word his Nanna said. 

“It took my Sam plenty of time before he mastered it. And he always said that it was important to treat the magic with kindness.”

Again, Dele nodded and Eric realised how much research he must have already done.

“Yeah, other people, people like me, they said that it’s like the magic can feel you. It like um, responds to your intentions with it.”

Eric’s Nanna smiled. “Exactly dear.

“To pass on magic you have to physically connect with the person, and its most effective if you’re connected to the part that is tender to their magic. So, are you happy to hold my hands Dele?”

Dele grinned, “Now Evelyn, how could I turn down an offer like that?” 

Eric rolled his eyes, but watched fascinated as Dele took hold of his Nanna’s hands.

“Now it’s simply a case of me pulling my magic forward and, hmm, transmitting it over to you.” 

“Like, pushing it into him?” Eric asked, his palms already tingling at the idea of connecting magically with Dele. 

“Exactly,” his Nanna replied. “Well, more like asking it to move across to Dele.” And then turning to Dele, “shall we try?”

Dele nodded and Eric held his breath. He felt the magic in the room shift the moment his Nanna pulled hers forward, and he saw a change in Dele the moment it entered him. It was impossible to say how he perceived it but suddenly Dele had magic.

“Fuck!” Eric said and then instantly apologised to his Nanna. 

“Oh my god!” Dele cried at the same time, pulling his hands away from Eric’s Nanna in excitement, “I feel it!” and then: “Oh, it’s gone.” 

Eric’s Nanna chuckled. “Well it’s not going to stick around. It doesn’t know you. We’ll try a few more times, so you get used to the feeling.” she said. And they did, each time Dele was radiant when the magic entered him. 

“It’s most effective if you have a real connection with the person you’re teaching,” Eric’s Nanna explained, after a few more attempts, “an underlying bond already that is deeper than the magic. Then, the more you practise the deeper the bond grows. The more the magic trusts you and the easier you will find retaining it.” She looked up at Dele and then to Eric with a gentle expression filled with love. 

Eric looked away and curled back into the armchair. He wondered, not for the first time, whether his Nanna knew about the true nature of his relationship with Dele. In fact, he reasoned, he was certain she did. Not that he minded, not for him. His Nanna was the first person he’d talked to when he’d realised he was gay. He’d always trusted her, and she’d never judged. But what about Dele? Dele had his career to think about too, and his own family. Eric didn’t know if Harry, Alan or Sally knew about Dele and Eric. 

They’d spoken about it only once, after the first few heady weeks of the exploration of their feelings and bodies had passed, and they’d settled into a happy, loving routine. They were lying in bed when Dele, to Eric’s surprise, had asked him how long he’d known.

“Known what?” Eric had replied, kissing the crook of Dele’s elbow. 

“That you like me,” Dele had asked.

“I dunno.” Eric had replied honestly, “but I guess I probably always knew, if I think about it. From the moment you appeared at the Club, annoying twat that you are, it was always you.” 

Dele had preened and gently kissed Eric. He’d then asked Eric more questions, probing him about liking men. And Eric had been honest, told him he’d known from a young age, but didn’t recognise it until he was 14. He had told him about Abel and the years of confusion that followed. He had told him about telling his Nanna first, because he’d suspected his Nanna already knew. He had told him about how when his career took off, he tried not to think about it. He had told him how he used to sleep with women occasionally, but didn’t really enjoy it. He had told him how pleased he was he’d met Dele. And then he’d asked Dele.

“I dunno really,” Dele had said, lying back. “I always liked girls. I guess when I met you I just liked you more.” And then he had changed the subject. 

Eric knew he didn’t have to worry about his family. He didn’t really talk to them about relationship stuff, but he also knew he could trust them all with his life. He reasoned he didn’t have to worry therefore if his Nanna knew about him and Dele, if Eric’s family knew. They’d never tell. Dele’s secret was safe with them. 

~

An hour or so later when Eric’s Nanna claimed fatigue, Eric and Dele took Steve for a walk by the sea.

The wet, drizzly weather meant the beach was deserted and, throwing caution to the wind, Eric grabbed Dele’s gloved hand. They ambled slowly along the seafront hand in hand as Steve ran in and out of the water, chasing waves. Eric pocketed some sea glass for Daisy and Steffi and Dele huddled in close to Eric, pulled his hat over his ears, stroked his neck, kissed his nose. 

“I love you,” Dele said, grinning.

“I know,” Eric replied, “I love you too.” 

They stopped and watched the sea as the watery sun disappeared over the horizon.

“I’m sorry I called your Nan a witch,” Dele said.

“Nah it’s fine, don’t worry,” Eric replied, squeezing Dele’s hand. “Fran calls us witches all the time.”

“You get mad when I call you a witch.”

“I get mad when you call me Sabrina,” Eric retorted, and Dele snorted, amused at himself. 

“Think it’s just Nan’s age. You know, don’t worry.”

They carried on watching the sea in silence, the soothing lull of the tide breathing in and out. 

And then: “Do you really think your Nanna and Grandad used some kind of magic sex voodoo shit when they were getting it on?” Dele asked. 

“Oh my god,” Eric cried. “I hate you.” And Dele doubled over in laughter. 

~ 

They tried it for the first time the following afternoon sitting at the table in Eric’s kitchen. The low autumn sun filtered in through the blinds on the back door bathing Dele in a soft, stripy glow.

Eric was inexplicably nervous and he rubbed his palms against his thighs.

“Should we like, put on some music or something?” Dele asked.

Eric snorted, “No, it’s fine. I just. I dunno.” 

“Shall we try then?” Dele asked gently. 

“It’s just,” Eric started. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow,” Dele joked and pulled a comic face at Eric. 

Eric smiled weakly. 

“Look Diet,” Dele said, “It’s cool, promise. We don’t have to. But imagine how cool it’ll be if I can magic in some dark chocolate Hobnobs when you forget to buy them.” 

“It doesn’t actually work like that,” Eric said, “You can’t just magic food, there are like rules or something. You can’t make food out of nothing. I dunno. Still need to buy the basics. You can magic cooking though, with the food you buy. And anyway, I always remember to buy you dark chocolate Hobnobs.” He was babbling.

Dele reached over and took Eric’s hands, linking their fingers. Eric looked up at him and smiled.

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.”

“I mean it, we don’t have to.”

“No, no. That’s not it. I want to,” Eric replied, sitting up and pushing his palms flush against Dele’s. Dele straightened up opposite him and held his breath. 

Eric closed his eyes and felt the familiar thrum of magic running through his body. He did what his Nanna had told him and pulled it forward into his arms, down into his hands. He opened his eyes and looked at Dele who looked back, smiling. Eric willed his magic through his palms, and pushed it into Dele. The moment the magic entered Dele, they both gasped and Dele tightened his grip on Eric’s hands but didn’t let go. They stared at each other in wonder as the magic flowed through them, linking them together.

“Oh my god,” Dele whispered, “Oh my god.”

“I know,” Eric replied softly. “Dele, look at you.”

“What?” Dele asked, smiling, the magic radiating from him. Eric shook his head, grinning.

“This feels so weird,” he said.

“It feels so good,” Dele replied, “but, I -.” And he pulled his hands away, breaking the contact.

Eric felt breathless, and he shook his hands in wonder.

“You okay?” He asked Dele.

“Yeah, it was just. Pretty intense.” And then: “But mate, that was like a hundred times better than with your Nan.” He grinned idiotically at Eric.

“I should fucking hope so,” Eric said, laughter spilling from him as Dele leant forward across the table and kissed Eric. 

 

**December 2018**

After the first time they practised whenever they could; whilst sitting on the sofa watching reruns of quiz shows; whilst in the car idling at a red light on their way to training; whilst in bed with Eric curled around Dele, his arms circling his waist; whilst in the kitchen waiting for the toaster to pop on slow, winter-softened mornings. 

Dele scored against Leicester and Eric grabbed his hand in celebration on the pitch, allowed his magic to flow into Dele. Dele, his eyes glowing, pushed his nose into Eric’s neck as Jan and Sonny bundled them to the ground and he didn’t let Eric go. 

Gradually Dele was able to hold Eric’s hands for longer periods, to allow Eric’s magic to flow through him for greater intervals. But every time Eric let go the magic slowly seeped away. 

~

For Christmas Steffi gave Eric one of the books she’d got from their Nanna which Eric thought was a bit of a cop out.

“I mean, it technically belongs to me already,” Eric grumbled to Dele on the phone when Steffi was out of earshot having a post-dinner cigarette with her boyfriend in the garden. “Nan gave it to all of us. Shouldn’t have got her that bag she wanted.” 

“God you’re such a fucking misery these days,” said Dele. Eric looked at the book on his pile of gifts: _Earth Magic - An Easy Guide for Every Magic Garden._

“Yeah well,” Eric grumbled again, “you try having your body cut open and part of it removed.”

“Whatever Eric, no one needs an appendix anyway,” Dele said. 

Eric scowled and shovelled a handful of Twiglets into his mouth. He was being unfair - Dele had been nothing but gentle with him since his operation. But he was frustrated. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Dele said he forgave him but had to go, Sally had got the Quality Street out.

“Love you,” Eric said, “save me a purple one.”

~

Dele had been rested for their Boxing Day game against Bournemouth and so Eric got a taxi to his. Dele’s cleaner had strung up some fairy lights across the lounge window and Eric had bought Dele a poinsettia plant, but that was the extent of the festive decorations. 

They exchanged presents, Dele delighted with his gift from Eric - a t-shirt with _Witch In Training_ emblazoned across the front in large white letters with a silhouette of a cat underneath - and he put it on immediately. They watched the game together eating the leftover turkey sandwiches Eric’s mum had forced on him, Dele whooping with every goal. 

 

**January 2019**

A pot of basil appeared on the kitchen counter. 

“What’s this?” Eric asked, toeing off his trainers and pulling his muddy top over his head and throwing it into the washing machine. Training had been tough, his body still adjusting after the long post op rest and rehabilitation. He’d missed Dele, who’d been attending his own rehab for his ongoing hamstring injury.

“Why can’t you magic your clothes clean?” Dele asked, placing a hand on Eric’s stomach and leaning up into a kiss. 

“Because then I wouldn’t have an excuse to strip in front of you,” Eric replied. And then: “Careful, you should sit down.” 

Dele huffed, but sat back down at the kitchen table, stretching his leg onto the chair opposite. 

“It’s for luck,” Dele said, picking up a grape from a bowl in front of him and popping it in his mouth.

“What’s for luck?” Eric asked, magicking on a soft grey jumper and sitting down at the table. He absently placed a hand on Dele’s thigh, pushing care and warmth through the palm of his hand. 

“The basil.”

“Oh yeah, the basil,” Eric remembered, looking at the offending plant. 

“It’s for luck,” Dele repeated, “basil brings luck in physical journeys.” 

“Basil tastes delicious in pasta sauce,” Eric said. 

Dele huffed again, impatiently. “It said basil is good for luck in physical journeys. And also um.” He scrunched up his face. “Pass me the book.” 

“What book?” 

“The one Steffi gave you. I’ve been reading it.”

“You’ve been reading?” Eric replied, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. He magicked the book from the living room to the kitchen table anyway.

Dele pulled a face, “Yeah, well it’s interesting,” he said defensively, opening the book and flipping through until he found what he was looking for. 

“Look: _Use basil in spells to attract love and in preparation for astral projection or to bring luck in physical journeys._ ” 

“What the fuck does astral projection mean?” Eric asked.

“Fuck knows” Dele said, “But I thought you know. I need a bit of luck here, with this.” He pointed to his leg, “thought it can’t hurt.” 

Eric looked over at Dele in sympathy and understanding. 

“Well, it can’t hurt.” Eric agreed, smiling kindly at Dele and stealing a grape. “Don’t think we need it to attract love though.” 

“Dunno,” said Dele, “Was thinking about using it on Mousa. He’s a right dish.” 

 

**February 2019**

The season trundled on, punctuated by their tag teaming of illnesses and injuries, an apparent endless stream of pain, boredom, comfort and care. 

“This is so frustrating” Dele said in late February as they watched the highlights of the team’s miserable loss against Chelsea on Match of the Day. “Fucking hell Tripps.”

“Don’t,” Eric said, “he feels bad enough.” 

“Yeah well it’s not like he can hear me. Fuck. I should’ve been playing.”

“We both should’ve been playing,” Eric said sullenly, shifting on the sofa to hold Dele’s hand, sending his magic through to him. “I miss playing. I miss playing with you.” 

“We’re a right fucking pair aren’t we,” Dele said. 

Eric huffed a laugh. 

“I mean, tonsillitis Diet, is that even a thing people get anymore?”

“It’s not like it’s scurvy, you twat.” 

“Do you think we’re cursed?” Dele asked with mock seriousness. “Destined to never play football together again?”

“Probably.”

“I bet it’s Declan Rice.”

“Declan Rice?”

“Trying to steal your place in the England squad. Fucking Hammers. Can’t trust them.”

~

Dele’s endless patience with practising to retain Eric’s magic never failed to surprise Eric. Every time they broke contact and the magic slowly left Dele, Eric expected Dele’s temper, which could be short and explosive, to show. He expected his attention span to dwindle and his interest to be lost. But Dele just kept patiently taking Eric’s hand and asking if he minded trying again.

Eric didn’t mind. He never felt closer to Dele than in the moments when he felt his magic flowing through him, joining him to Dele. He felt so wrapped up in Dele; their lives intertwining through magic, through football, through their love that seemed too large for Eric’s body to contain. Sometimes he thought he loved Dele so much it ached, his heart fit to burst - he couldn’t keep it in.

“I love you, I love you,” he’d whisper, “I fucking love you,” against Dele’s smiling mouth. 

 

 **March 2019**

And then, towards the end of March, Dele did it. 

The Saturday evening before a game against Liverpool and Eric was slumped on his sofa again, hand in Dele’s pushing his magic through as he contemplated how much time he’d spent on this sofa that season. Another injury. Another bout of rehab. Another month of frustration. 

“Fucking shitter of a season,” he complained to Dele, “I’m sick of this sofa.” 

“Oh that reminds me,” Dele said, “Danny asked me to give you this in training today.” 

He pulled his hand away and went to push himself up from the sofa, when he stopped and turned to Eric, half crouching.

“Oh my god,” he said, looking at his hands in disbelief, “it’s not gone!”

Eric sat up.

“Really?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes!” Dele said, said standing up and shaking his hands, “it’s still here. I can feel it.” 

“You’ve retained it!” Eric said.

“Oh my god this is fucking mad,” Dele said, staring wildly around the room, “it’s in me, I can feel it.”

“Do something!” Eric said, standing up to join Dele, “quick, pass me that mug.” He pointed to his finished cup of tea sitting on the coffee table.

Carefully Dele positioned his hands, closed his eyes, took a breath in. Eric felt the magic in the room shift. The mug skidded haphazardly across the table and fell onto the floor, spilling the dredges of tea onto the carpet.

“Oh my god!” Eric said, as Dele stared at his hands in awe, “you fucking moved it!” 

“Fucking hell,” Dele said, grinning, “I can’t believe it actually worked.” 

“Do something else,” Eric said, “try and clear up the tea stain.” 

“I can’t,” Dele said, “it’s leaving already.” 

Eric waved his hand over the stain and removed it himself.

“Nevermind,” he said settling back on the sofa and pulling Dele on top of him. “That was fucking hot,” and he kissed him.

~

Later, after, as they lay on the sofa, warm skin against skin, Eric asked Dele what Danny had asked him to give him. 

“Oh yeah!” Dele said. “It’s in my bag,” and he motioned towards his kit bag that he’d thrown on the floor earlier. “Let me try and bring it over. Gimme more magic.”

Eric took Dele’s hand and pushed his magic through; again Dele’s eyes lit up as he retained it. 

“Okay,” he said sitting up and concentrating. He held his hand out in front of him and slowly, slowly a small bottle wobbled out from the bag and into the air. Eric held his breath as Dele moved his hand slowly. The bottle tipped sideways and then back upright again, all the time making a zig-zagging journey across the room to them before falling to the floor, just out of Dele’s reach.

“Damn,” he said, but with no real bite. “It left me.” 

Eric reached across and picked up the bottle from the floor. It was a smallish glass bottle, with a faint pink liquid inside. 

“What is this?” he asked curiously.

“Dunno,” Dele shrugged, “Danny just cornered me as I was getting into my car. He asked how you’re bearing up and then said that that I should give this to you.”

Eric took the lid off and a strong scent of roses wafted out. 

He eyed it suspiciously.

“That’s all he said?”

“He said it’ll help you with your hip, and he looked at me really intensely.” 

“Weird,” Eric said. “And I’m just meant to drink it?”

“Maybe,” Dele said, “Probably.”

“What if it’s something illegal?” Eric asked.

“Fucks sake Eric,” Dele replied, already bored with the conversation, “this is Danny we’re talking about. Just drink it.” 

~

Eric drank the small bottle of rose water the next day as he watched the game and miraculously, magically, he felt the tightness in his hip loosen and the dull ache soothe. 

 

**April 2019**

Dele was a quick learner. Once he’d mastered retaining Eric’s magic it wasn’t long before he could keep hold of it for one minute, five minutes, half an hour, a full hour. They face timed Eric’s Nanna to show her, who laughed delightedly as Dele levitated a cushion across the screen, bumping it repeatedly into Eric’s face. 

“You’re a natural,” she said fondly, and Dele preened. Eric batted the cushion away, irritated but full of pride. 

“Thanks Evelyn,” Dele said, “it was all down to you. No thanks to Eric here who has been useless.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Eric’s Nanna replied. “For you to have mastered it so quickly you must really - you must have a really deep bond.” She smiled, and Dele and Eric smiled back. 

~ 

For so long Eric had kept his magic separate from his day to day life - it was nothing important, just helpful if he couldn’t find his keys, not something he wanted to advertise. He wasn’t a freak, not Eric, nope, just best not to show it off - but now it was completely tied up with his relationship with Dele, meaning it was completely tied up with his whole life, and he found he didn’t mind. 

Afternoons were spent with Dele whizzing Eric’s possessions around his bedroom. Eric would find his books had all been removed from his bookshelf and replaced upside down and out of order. Often Eric would drive them to the local Waitrose and they’d buy flour and sugar and eggs. Back home Eric would magic them victoria sponges and chocolate cupcakes topped with coconut buttercream and Dele would levitate them off the cooling rack. They’d eat them laughing whilst standing up, treating their nutritionists’ advice with blatant disregard, the late April sunshine spilling in through the large kitchen windows. 

Once Eric caught Dele absently levitating a ball in training using magic leftover from that morning, when he’d asked Eric if he could practise warming his tea. But it was only Danny he was chatting to and Eric figured that was okay. 

The Premier League season petered out into a series of forgetful losses, but in Europe things were building to unexpected dizzying heights. 

**May 2019**

“Can’t believe this, really,” Dele said. They were sitting on the steps of Eric’s back door, the early morning dew dampening their bare feet. 

“This is it,” Eric replied, watching a bee hopping from flower to flower. Out the corner of his eye he saw Dele nod. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked Dele, blowing gently on his cup of tea before taking a sip. 

Dele shrugged, then looked at Eric. “Of course.” 

“Me too." 

They sat in silence watching the sun edge its way up over Eric’s garden fence, a blackbird singing loudly overhead. Eric’s phone vibrated on the step next to him. 

“Taxis here,” he said, magicking their half finished cups of tea away and followed Dele inside, closing the back door behind them. 

He held Dele’s hand as they walked through the house, picking up their bags and leaving through the front door. Before Eric pushed his palms out to open the gates and greet the taxi which was waiting to take them to the airport, where they’d board a plane to take them to Madrid, where they’d play the biggest game of their lives, Dele stopped and kissed Eric. And Eric thought, this is it; the Champion’s League final, no injuries, being in love with Dele, kissing on the front lawn, magic. This is it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Camden for cheer leading, grammar lessons and for loving Eric Dier more than the rest of us combined. Also, thank you for coming up with Witches On Line.
> 
> Thank you to Charlie for telling me Danny Rose should have magic where he can charm ailing roses back to health and brew up rose water as a tonic for people with various ills. Delightful. 
> 
> Again my research into Eric's family extended only to knowing the names of his siblings. Everything about his Nanna is made up, obvs. 
> 
> Basil's magical properties were found [here.](http://www.witchipedia.com/herb:basil)


End file.
